


once you were happy (i found it intriguing)

by maheswarannn



Category: Marvel Comics, West Coast Avengers
Genre: Comfort Disguised as Flirting, Communication, F/M, Flirting Disguised as Comfort, Fluff, New Relationship, Post West Coast Avengers, Quentin Quire is a Mess, gwentin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24505576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maheswarannn/pseuds/maheswarannn
Summary: Quentin realizes he doesn’t know much about Gwen’s, well, anything really. He tries to learn more about it.
Relationships: Gwen Poole & Quentin Quire, Gwen Poole/Quentin Quire
Comments: 12
Kudos: 30





	once you were happy (i found it intriguing)

It’s after Kate’s little excursion (minus the leisure) with some other so-and-sos to protect Thor’s baby sister. Yes it was a whole thing. Quentin found the whole story hilarious, definitely lots of hijinks that could pass off as family-friendly entertainment. If Bishop were interested in selling the rights of the story, someone would most probably pick it up. They were in L.A so the possibility was very much there. A quick sideline to make a few more bucks, because for everything the West Coast Avengers were something they were decidedly _not_ at the moment was rich. 

But, circling back, Kate is in the middle of telling them how they finally _finally_ make it to the rendezvous point over some Chinese takeout at the team’s lounge area. Gwen visibly lights up when Kate talks about Spider-Man. She sits up a little straighter and her head tilts just a little bit. It’s her ‘oh this is actually interesting to me’ face. Quentin’s arm feels cold from no longer having the weight of Gwen’s head on it. “Oh how is Mi– my favorite Spider-Man doing?”

Quentin tries not to, really honest to goodness tries, but he picks something up on accident. A little jolt of surprise that disappears just as fast as it came. It’s not from Gwen, he can never get a clear read on her thoughts. And why was that? There were no blocks put in place. Or at least, it wasn’t one that he was familiar with, which – is actually impossible. But it existed. Anyway.

The little jolt of surprise came from Bishop who was doing a good job of not _looking_ surprised. Something that told him if the room weren’t full of people she’d follow up her question with an _oh how do you know him?_

“He’s doing great. Says he’s going to start driving next semester.”

Gwen let out a small, “Ooh, good for him,” she hummed, satisfied with the small update. She leaned back on Quentin’s arm. The rest of the team talk about their own adventure with the Superior Spider-Man. Although aside from a few well-placed comments he mostly stays quiet. Gwen stays silent too, wallowing in thoughts that Quentin just can’t seem to reach.

A small petty part of him wonders how she knows Spider-Man though.

He gets it, he’s read Kate’s asinine ‘files’ on them, knowing everyone is part of her thing. She’s a secret-keeper for heroes and villains. The short _how’s he doing_ and the _good for him_ is because her connection to this particular Spider-Man is personal.

If that weren’t enough, she gets a call. He doesn’t judge or anything, but she rarely gets any calls. Gwen’s face doesn’t give anything away. “‘Scuse me.” She stands up and leaves. He and the others watch her close the door behind her.

“Huh, wonder who that was?” America says while stretching, expanding the couch space occupied by her and Ramone.

Quentin wondered who that was too.

He tried not to follow after her. That lasted for about five minutes before he’s saying something about being tired and turning in for the night. Clint stops him just before he can reach the door, looking at him straight in the eye. Quentin knows Clint knows what he’s going to do, as if mind-reading were one of _his_ powers. “Don’t go prying in things that aren’t your business, kid." He waves him off.

Quentin makes it to the annex of the building where their rooms were located in record time. Honestly it was just a hunch that she’d go to her room to take the call. Probably because she doesn’t want anyone overhearing the conversation. Oh well. He presses his ear on her door to hear better.

“–everything’s good back in Brooklyn? No problems with your ancient monster pet?” There’s a beat before she laughs. Has she ever laughed like that in front of him? At the moment, he couldn’t remember.

There’s a few back and forth quips he’s not privy to before she says something that interests him again. “I mean maybe? The whole move was sudden, Kate – oh did I tell you about Kate? She was the one you met the last time we were in L.A. Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker. I _have_ to send you a picture of the new digs.” Quentin tried to press his ear harder against the door.

 _“Gwen, you sent plenty of pictures during renovation. I’m pretty sure I have a good idea of what your room looks like_. _”_

“Eh, whatever I sent you some more. The rooms are so much bigger than–

 _“–than our apartment in Brooklyn. Yes, you’ve said.”_ Who was this guy? A friend, probably? They were roommates after all. He was probably important to Gwen and Quentin didn’t even know he existed.

 _“So you’re_ not _coming back soon? Cause I have a friend who’s going to move here and I said he could crash with me.”_

“Um…” She sounded hesitant. He can almost picture her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Gwen cleared her throat.

“No, yeah, totally. Although some of my stuff is still there. Send them over for me?”

_“Uh it’s a little suspicious for me to send over all your firearms and weapons, Gwen. I could maybe box up your clothes and whatever else you have here. Although I don’t exactly have the budget to rent movers or anything.”_

“Wait I have an idea,” he hears the clacking of keyboard keys, “I’ll contact Sarah to open up a magic portal where you can send all my stuff through.”

Quentin isn’t even sure if he got the next part properly. _“To where though? Last time we did that we ended up inside a trunk of an evil car.”_

“I’ll just call up Ghost Rider and tell him to come over with his car. It’ll work out, probably. I’ll cash in a solid or something.” What? He’s pretty sure that dude is currently part of the actual main Avengers team. How does she even know that guy?

_“I like how you thought of magic portal and evil car before literally anything else.”_

“Hey I come through, don’t I?”

_“Yeah, I guess.”_

“Alright it’s a plan! I’ll fix the details and get back to you.”

_“Okay don’t forget to call back.”_

“Yeah, yeah give me two or three days tops.” They talk a little more and eventually Gwen is the one who hangs up the call. He learns that the guy’s name was Cecil.

And the next part is his fault (though he’ll never admit it). He was so concentrated on listening into Gwen’s phone call that he didn’t even notice that America was behind him giving her patented stare. “ _What_ are you doing, Quire?” Well, fuck. 

He makes sure to answer right away. He even leans his side against the wall. “It’s nothing, I thought I heard a crash.” Easy. Believable.

America crossed her arms, glare apparent and accentuated with a raised eyebrow. Her voice, however, came out surprisingly low, “You sure have the _dumbest_ excuses. Tell me the truth.”

His voice comes out a little soft too. Just in case Gwen could hear them. “I was...curious.” They don’t really bring up the past. Little snippets of small happenings didn’t really lend themselves in figuring out a whole person’s history. They were fluff stories with no _actual_ substance. He just wanted to take a peak. Though he probably could have gone about it in a less creepy way.

“And you couldn’t just ask her about it?”

“I didn’t say I was a saint, Chavez.”

“You don’t _have_ to be a saint to be a good _partner_ , Quire. Don’t use your _asshatery_ to shield your _total lack_ of healthy communication skills.” Her arms are still tightly crossed, but every enunciation hits like a physical poke to the chest.

To his credit he lets out a very coherent uhm sound.

“Here’s how you’re going to do it.” She forcefully grabs his shirt, effectively keeping him in place. She gives three gentle knocks on the bright-pink door.

 _“America I will fucking destroy you."_ He makes sure his thoughts are loud, echoing inside her mind. She immediately gets back at him by harshly shoving him inside the room as soon as the door opened. He’s left stumbling in, hair and glasses eschew, and his right shoulder is already sore from the push. He looks pathetic.

Gwen is...the opposite. She changed from her pink penguin shirt to one of Quentin’s. The one that said _West Coast Best Coast_. The t-shirt was nice on her. It was cute. It wasn’t big on her or anything, they were about the same size, but she was wearing _his_ shirt. 

Quentin quickly rights himself up. He brushes off the imaginary dust off his shirt to buy him sometime. He quickly combs his fingers through his hair and straightens his glasses. He clears his throat. “So I was just checking in.”

She doesn’t title her head, thank gods, because sometimes he can get distracted staring at the pink tips of her hair. And he doesn’t need another added disadvantage right now. Gwen purses her lips though and she places her hands on his shoulders. As if steadying him. Observing. “Right. Well, I’m doing fine? Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing, it's just...the phone call seemed important. So I just wanted to, y’know, check.” Fuck. He said that already.

Gwen moved her hands up, her thumbs resting on the base of his neck. One thumb steadying itself on his pulse-point and the other drawing light circles on his collarbone. It didn’t help that she stepped even closer towards him. Her eyes crinkled at the edge and the corners of her mouth slanted upwards. This was definitely way worse than the head tilting. “Yeah you already said that.”

Nerves sucked. Well, she wasn’t the only one who had hands. He forced his to steady themselves on her waist. “So was it? Important I mean?”

She sighed, the kind that was content and wistful and reminiscent all at once. “Yeah kind of.”

“And do you...want to talk about it?” The hand that was on his pulse moved even higher, and started combing through his hair. His hands were still unmoving. Quentin didn’t think he had it in him to multitask while having a conversation right now. 

“Hm. What do you wanna know?” she whispered. Gwen didn’t release herself from his very loose grip but she stepped back just enough for her arms to lock themselves behind his head.

There it was again. It didn’t matter what he wanted to know. What was important was what she wanted to tell him. That Gwen trusted him enough to talk to him and – this was all different from his last relationship. He didn’t have a lot of interpersonal relations outside the school(s). Him and Gwen weren’t always fighting the same fight.

Building history and sharing life stories with one another took time. To learn about someone...in an organic and paced way was not standard for an X-Man. The kind where you don’t just know things because of visions, secrets passed down, visitors from a possible future, or because you shared the same classes. Even if the other one had an unfair advantage of already knowing most of it. “Anything that's interesting.” She stared past him, if only for a second, probably in consideration.

“Well. The person who just called was Cecil. We did a handful of freelance merc jobs before I worked for M.O.D.O.K. Like everything else in this universe it’s a whole story.”

“Oh?” He uses one hand to brush the flyaway wisps of hair on her face. Finally, he remembers how to use them. “Do tell.” He knew a bit of it already, nothing specific though.

She does the thing, the tilt her head to the side, one eyebrow raised, one eye squinted thing. It undoes his work of tucking her hair in. He doesn't mind. “ _Really?_ ”

“Really.”

Gwen gives him a small peck on the cheek. It's a kiss he didn’t deserve, all things considering. But Quentin was always an opportunist – and he’ll tell her about the eavesdropping when she’s done telling her story. “Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I want to?” And he can hear any one of their teammates berating him for the tone of his voice. He doesn’t like that his conscience was taking the shape of America bullying him into being nicer. It works. “Because it's you,” he adds in a softer, gentler voice. 

They were still standing, still slightly by her door. She pulled him towards her bed. It was pink, soft, and full of pillows and plushies. Quentin wondered when he started to find this kind of thing comfortable. Gwen let him go and collapsed onto the mattress. She patted the space beside her.

She didn’t say anything until he was settled. “Okay.” It took her a couple of seconds to speak again. “So I got roped into working for M.O.D.O.K after I killed his top goon.”

“Naturally. As one does.”

She let out a light laugh but continued. Gwen tells him about M.O.D.O.K, her former team, not the villain. She recounts the whole story with Cecil. He doesn’t know Batroc that much, only that he’s a bad guy, but Gwen tells him how he was her first mentor. She looked so animated, talking about her adventures and remembering her life back in New York. It made him remember his own life there with Idie and the others, not that he’d ever admit it to them or anyone

Gwen’s curled up against him now, a hand under his shirt so that it can rest against his bare skin. It was strangely comforting and a part of him recognized how domestic they were. His legs were tangled with hers. Gwen’s feet were always, _always_ cold so he made sure that the comforter was draped on them. 

“Oh this one you can relate to. I met my future evil self once.” He tenses, relaxes when she traces a little star pattern on his stomach. “I haven’t told anyone this...a part of me thought she was cool. I mean that’s why she was able to exist in the first place. Why she didn’t fade into oblivion the second I saw her – because I wasn’t all scared of the possibility of being her. She had so much power, y’know?”

Quentin’s own throat is dry when he swallows. “Yeah. I know.” And he knows that she gets it. “I mean when I met my future self...he was what I wanted to be, but it was wrong. He was me and his thoughts were just – y’know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“So what did you do?”

“I made a decision. And it wasn’t long after that that I met my future goodie self.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I've only met my totally hot bad future. And that means–”

“Your all good and knowing future self is probably too busy to visit you, don't take it personally. I mean, he is the Future Phoenix. If there isn’t anyone from the future going back in time to stop you from doing something horrible then you’re not doing a bad job at existing.”

Okay that made sense. “You make sense.”

Gwen ran a hand through his own hair. “Of course I make sense.”

Quentin avoids looking in her eyes, preferring to stare at her bangs instead. Looking directly at them was too intense. Especially when he says the next part, “I mean that, _you_ make sense. This,” he gestures to both of them without letting go of her hand, “makes sense.” He rests their hands on his stomach again.

“Well I think you make sense too. This whole thing does.” And she shifts her position to stare up at her ceiling. 

They don’t talk for a bit after that. Quentin’s still trying to summon the nerve to tell her that he was listening in on the conversation with her friend earlier. That wasn’t cool.

Gwen sighed, “It’s so calm here. I wish it were like this all the time.”

“Like what?”

“The not always fighting– thing. Just being able to talk to each other is important too. I guess I wish there were more moments like this. But it only ever happens here.”

Quentin squeezed her hand. “We talk. We're like this when we go out and eat. We do nothing but sometimes.” Gwen continued to stare up and beyond.

She smiles and Quentin knows it’s a joke he’s not privy to. A joke, he supposes, no one else was privy to. “I’m talking about a different here.” Ah. She squeezed back. They fall back in silence.

“Gwen?”

“Yeah?”

“I was listening to your phone call before I came in here. I shouldn’t have done that.” His face isn’t turned to face her anymore. He follows her gaze. To up and beyond.

Gwen’s voice is considerably lower, “Yeah that was a douche move.”

“Yeah,” the volume of his voice softened to match hers. He didn’t have anything else to add. His conscience, still disturbingly taking on the voice of one America Chavez, hums in agreement.

“Just ask me next time. Literally all you superheroes think you can get by with clever quips as a replacement for effective communication.”

He lets out a sarcastic-sounding snort, “Oh like you’re a superhero that _doesn’t_ quip?”

She doesn’t answer back and Quentin thought that just meant the conversation was just dying down again but when he looks over she’s grinning and humming under her breath. He nudged her side with his elbow a little bit. And Gwen glances back at him, the smile and twinkle in her eye still in place.

Quentin wants to ask about the sudden humming, but he likes this moment as is. He’ll ask her about Spider-Man another time.

**Author's Note:**

> back on my bs with these two again. it's always such a fun time when i'm writing them laskdjhf. their energy is just made of that good stuff i guess. 
> 
> i also tried to allude to a bunch of other runs too. as much as i could anyway. quentin's character is still one that i'm not used too esp cause i wasn't really familiar with him before wca. although i've read a couple of the more recent issues that prominently featured him. i still feel like the way i write him lacks in the Bastard Energy he exudes in the comics. but he is easier to write than gwen imo. which is ironic because i've read all her stuff. it's what got me into wca in the first place
> 
> i just don't know how to incorporate the constant fourth wall breaks in her inner dialogue without breaking the flow of the story too much. it's fun to hint at tho!
> 
> anyway! hope you enjoyed! n leave a comment if you can! i might add a part two to this but i can't really promise anything right now.


End file.
